


Something New

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-25
Updated: 2008-06-25
Packaged: 2018-10-27 13:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: In just almost four months Hermione learns how something new can become something old.





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This was written for the first challenge of the Hermione Last Drabble Writer Standing challenge, Round 3.

It was different. It was a change of pace.

_This one_ fulfilled all the expectations cultivated in her by years of reading fairy tales of all lengths and languages. _This one_ didn’t call her names, didn’t row with her, didn’t laugh at her habit of curling up with a book at odd times of the day.

This one bought her flowers, and danced with her.

She liked it.

\--

The feeling in Hermione’s heart was contentment as Adrian Pucey, unassuming owner of the Wizarding World’s largest transportation company, poured her some wine. They were at his flat in the exclusive residential strip just outside Diagon Alley having one of their quiet dinners together, occasions she cherished as they gave her a time to simply unwind.

With Adrian, she didn’t need to do any mothering. He was the one who took care of her.

Adrian gave her a small smile. It reminded her of the first time he ever smiled at her, which was during a chance encounter at the grocer’s over the last bag of fresh mushrooms.

“You should take it,” he’d said. “I could always put off cooking my salads.”

“No,” she’d argued. “Please take it. I don’t really know how to cook myself.”

Adrian had smiled then, and offered her his hand while making his introduction. She was slightly stunned when she remembered him as someone who used to play in the Slytherin Quidditch team, but was even more shocked when he remarked that, of course, he knew who she was.

“Of course, you’re Hermione Granger,” he’d remarked casually. “How could I not know?”

Her eyes had widened almost comically. “How did you know?”

Adrian laughed a deep, rich, laugh. “It’s really hard to miss the names of the new Wizarding world’s heroes,” he said with another smile. “And we went to Hogwarts together.”

Neither of them bought the mushrooms.

That encounter was followed by another when she bumped into him at Flourish and Blotts, and yet another when she saw him at Gringotts. He’d invited her to an ice cream at Fortescue’s then, which earned him a raised eyebrow.

He raised an eyebrow back at her. “What? I like ice cream.”

“I’m a Muggleborn, you know,” Hermione reminded him.

“I know. And I’m a pureblood. I hope that fact doesn’t put you off ice cream.”

\--

Adrian clearing his throat brought Hermione back to the present. He was smiling at her, of course, but the smile held a question.

“Oh. Sorry,” Hermione said. “I was just remembering how we first met.”

“What about it?” Adrian asked as he pulled her up from her chair and led her to his bedroom.

“Everything just felt so new.”

\--

Adrian’s hands on her skin were always gentle, always reverent. First, with his fingers he would trace her lips, then trail them down to her collarbone, and further down until he reached her sex. He would make sure she was wet and ready for him before he entered, always with his eyes closed and his mouth half open.

He would pump into her. And again. And her orgasm would build deep and explode.

Then, he would come himself.

Almost four months of this brand of sex. Hermione couldn’t be blamed if she remembered the long and hard body that used to pound her into the mattress, the filthy words that were whispered in her ear. _Gods, Hermione, you feel so fucking good. I love you._

No. Hermione would force those thoughts out of her head. Adrian was good to her. He gave her flowers, took her out on expensive dates, danced with her.

It was different.

\--

Always, after sex, Adrian would fall asleep and Hermione would stay awake. She would think of the almost four months between the two of them, how it had been so new and fresh and different. How it was so much better than what she used to have.

How it _was_ better.

She was to blame, really, for everything. She’d rushed into this because of its novelty; it wouldn’t be fair to look for bits and pieces of _him_ in Adrian. She’d wanted someone different—someone who would sweep her off her feet with flowers and dinners and talks by the fire, and that was Adrian. But then the novelty wore off.

Looking back, Hermione realized that the beating of her heart had never gone into overdrive by merely gazing at Adrian. She’d never felt his kisses down to the tips of her toes. She'd never felt her blood rush when in an argument with him.

The realization was a heavy weight on her chest.

\--

Hermione dressed silently, gazing at Adrian’s sleeping form, thinking how almost four months of something new had turned into something old so quickly.

She gathered her things and left.  Fin 


End file.
